Hoping for the Best
by Wanda517
Summary: Steph attends a Veteran's Day Ceremony with the Rangeman crew, and reflects on the meaning of the day. An overheard conversation also has her reflecting on the meaning of Honor. Babe, Morelli isn't here.


Response to the Sharon's November 2011 "Locked Up For a Moment" Challenge; all words/phrases in BOLD are challenge prompts.

All named characters belong to Janet Evanovich. I am borrowing for now. I'd keep Ranger if possible.

**Hoping for the Best**

"Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best, even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives, and even when it does it can be lost so easily."

Steph snorted quietly. She had heard the sentiment uttered too loudly by the grey-haired lady in the row ahead of her. For Stephanie, hoping for the best was something she had based her life on, but after 3 years as a Bond Enforcement Agent, and working with the Rangeman security firm, she had learned that hoping had nothing to do with the outcome. The only way to ensure a "best" outcome in any situation is to be completely prepared and approach it confident of success.

Even then, all best laid plans can go awry, and the "best" outcome is compromised. She had enough scars to illustrate that point. And every day she could observe the scars and old injuries still born by the former **soldiers** with whom she worked at Rangeman. Who, despite extensive and careful planning and preparation, suffered when the plans proved insufficient to respond to the volatile and **scary** happenstances when serving in a war zone in another **country** or when on a covert **mission** for the Government.

Steph shook her head slightly and returned her attention to the speaker at the Podium. This was a special **Veterans Day Ceremony** at the local Veterans Administration Hospital. The speaker was asking all to stand to honor those lost in war, then remain standing for the official Presentation of the **Flag** and the Anthem.

Her eyes traveled to the base of the podium, where an empty metal stand was waiting. An honor guard marched forward to insert a rifle on the stand, top it with a helmet, and place a pair of empty combat boots in front of the stand then hang dog tags on the rifle. The guard steps back to salute the display, which represents the service members who had been lost in battle. The sight and simple ceremony brought the tears which had been threatening all day, rolling down her cheeks in full force.

The Flag was marched forward by four **heroes** from the local Veterans of Foreign Wars chapter. The four men, each from different branches of the service wore their Class A Dress uniforms with their service ribbons and medals. The veterans represented Korean War, Vietnam War, Afghanistan and Iraq wars. Among their medals were several Purple Hearts, Silver Stars, Bronze Stars and Campaign ribbons. Surely these men represented the best of those who have served our country. This was followed by the National Anthem sung by a local high-school chorus accompanied by the high-school orchestra.

Steph glanced to the VIP section reserved for those in uniform. She saw the ten Rangemen who were attending standing at attention, saluting the Flag as it passed. Most were in Army Uniforms, all with Ranger Tabs and Black Berets; there were a couple of Navy Seals in their dress blue uniforms. Such impressive, handsome men, and she was proud to know them and to work with them. Of course the one who impressed her most was their leader and CEO, Ricardo Carlos (Ranger) Manoso. This is only the second time in 3 years that she has seen him in his Class A uniform, and it brought tears to her eyes looking at the ribbons and medals covering his left breast. He was an exceptional leader and warrior, fearless and, when necessary, ruthless in pursuit of the enemy. Many of his ribbons and medals were decorated with three to four oak leaf clusters, indicating multiple instances of the medal being awarded, including his Purple Heart with 3 oak leaf clusters. The sacrifice these men made for their country, for everyone gathered at the ceremony, made her heart swell.

Once the Flag Presentation was complete and the honor guard had returned to the staging area, Steph surreptitiously scanned the crowd, her attention drawn to a not-quite-quiet conversation being held between two older men, dressed in business attire and ties, glaring angrily at some Veterans who were rather scruffy looking, in faded jeans, leather motorcycle jackets, with numerous patches, including a Green, Yellow and Red Vietnam Veterans of America patch and long grey hair in ponytails.

The younger business-man shook his head then turned to his neighbor and said, **"I don't know about you, but I say we shoot the fuckers, bury the bodies, and deny they were ever here." **While Steph was sure neither was prepared to do anything at the ceremony, or maybe at all, she made mental notes on their faces, and other physical attributes, to pass along the implied threat to Ranger, who was supporting the Veterans Homeless Program, and other outreach programs for troubled vets. The scruffy guys may be neither homeless nor troubled, but they could use some friends to tell them, or help them, watch their backs.

As the last speaker concluded her remarks, the Flags were retired, the benediction delivered. Then TAPS was played and the tears once again rolled unabated down her cheeks. Then Stephanie walked quickly to join her team, Ranger pulled her to him and gave her a brief hug as he led her across the parking lot to the Turbo. She spotted the two business-suited men slide into a Mercedes Sedan, so she told Ranger what she had seen and heard. He asked, "Do you think those two will be any problem? Are they a real threat to anyone?" She responded softly, "Not today, and maybe not next week, but they have some anger issues and could eventually become a threat to someone like the bikers".

As they pulled from the parking lot, Stephanie spotted the two scruffy vets, both on big Harleys, each flying a full size American Flag, and a large Patriot Guard flag. The Patriot Guards are bikers who formed to provide a human shield between bereaved families at military funerals and the crazed protestors who had taken to loud, offensive protests at these funerals. The Patriot Guard was there to honor the departed hero, and to protect the **family gathering** to bury their loved one from the protestors. Would the businessmen change their minds if they knew what these bikers were doing? Probably not; it might even add fuel to their hate and rage.

Stephanie sighed and felt sad for the businessmen, who were probably veterans too and should have embraced their common experiences with the bikers, or at least honor their military service since that was the purpose of the day. Instead, they allowed some old prejudice to stir up hateful feelings to ruin their day, and mar hers.

Once again, Stephanie found herself reverting to hoping for the best; that the bikers who understood the meaning of honor and the creed they had sworn to, would be safe from the vague prejudices of those who had obviously lost their honor.


End file.
